I have no Memory of That
by Paranoidgirl
Summary: An answer to an anonymous prompt to write something with the phrase 'I have no memory of that' with the last character I've taught about last night. Which is Berihun. It got spooky. (Warning: BIG Dawn of the Morninglight Spoilers ahead)


A/N: So someone anonymously gave me a writing prompt on Tumblr with the phrase 'I have no memory' of that about the last person I taught about last night. And considering I'm all up in Dawn of the Morninglight and a certain returning character, this is what happened. I'd like to thank Anon because this was EXACTLY what I needed to knock an idea that was already forming in my head right out of the park. Thank you so much.

Have fun!

* * *

Berihun hated Philip Marquard's family.

He'd never admit it, since he saw Philip as one of the few people on his level (Did that make him a friend? Philip sure taught so.) he kept quiet and just played along. Even when he figured out their true nature, he played along. Somewhat. Philip Marquard knew he knew and they came to an agreement; don't talk about it in front of them or others and all would be fine.

That still didn't take away that Berihun _hated_ them. He was always baffled by Philip's insistence on having the perfect family. The perfect house. The perfect _life._ Up to the point that he used the Dreaming Ones to help him with it. Berihun was far more direct about it. They promised power. He wanted power. Done.

That said, if he wanted that power, he'd know that sticking with his old friend Philip Marquard was his best bet. And that meant playing house with his… abominations.

"The things I do for you…" Berihun muttered as he sat in Marquard's mansion, foregoing his coat and even his trademark hat as he was working on his masterpiece; a large automaton made out of Third Age technology. He was planning on doing this for a bit longer before people entered.

Philip Marquard and his… family.

"Uncle Beri!" Katherine called and Berihun let out an audible groan.

"Philip! How many times did I tell you; I don't like it when your bratty abominations call me that!" He shouted.

"Language, mister." Elisa scolded him as she entered with a tray. Tea for the children, wine for the adults.

"Oh don't mind him." Philip said, sitting down. "You know how he gets when he gets interrupted during his work." He looked at Berihun with a smile. "Why don't you come on down and relax? That robot's not going anywhere… yet."

"Fine." Berihun said, tossing aside the wrench he was using and walking towards the sitting area. "I need a drink, anyway." With that, he sat down and took one of the wine glasses.

"That's our B." Philip said. "Always busy but always there for a good time, too." He added with a smile. Berihun just grumbled a bit as he started to take a sip from his drunk. "Just ask him about our wedding day." This made Berihun spit out his drink.

"That's always a fun story. And I don't think the children heard it yet." Elisa insisted now too, as well. This now was getting uncomfortable.

"Tell us about the wedding, uncle Beri!" Alexandre asked, looking up at him. He opened his mouth to share a story, but stopped himself. He couldn't.

"I… have no memory of that." He eventually said. It was the truth. He didn't remember the wedding. Couldn't. There never was a wedding. This caused a silence as the family now all looked at him expectantly. Even the dog. There was menace there. He suddenly became a threat to this illusion of perfection.

"Well, you did have your fair share of whiskey from that bottle you brought along." Philip eventually said with a sly smile. "That probably explains the hazy memory."

"Don't worry, children. We have pictures! Who wants to see?" Elisa said, as the children cheered and followed her to another part of the mansion. Once alone, Berihun couldn't help but release the breath he held.

"Seriously, Philip. You made them believe I was at your imagined _wedding?!"_ He eventually said, angry. "We've talked about this. I'm fine being a part of this whole farce, but I want to be informed." Philip just chuckled and shook his head. "I mean it. This whole 'playing house' with the Dreaming ones is your thing. Not mine." He took another sip from his wine as Philip, his old friend, was now outright laughing. "What is so funny?"

"I never would have imagined you would be so… adamant about it. I must say that's impressive."

"Adamant about what?" Berihun asked. Now he was just confused.

"About what you are. Or are not." Philip said as he smiled at Berihun in a way that made him shiver. "Not bad for a first try, wouldn't you say?"

"First…?" Berihun stammered. What did this mean? What did any of this mean?

"Look! Uncle Beri! Look what we found!" Alexandre called as the family entered the room again. He was holding a picture. Philip and Elisa on their wedding day. Looking as perfect as ever. And in the left corner, holding a glass of whiskey…

Was Berihun.

"But I… I have not memory of this." Berihun stammered. This wasn't real. This was just another illusion of the Dreaming Ones. But as he looked at the picture, memories of that day started to flood his mind. But not because he suddenly remembered. It was almost as if they were… created at this very moment.

A hand on his shoulder. His blood ran cold. He was trapped.

"See?" Philip said, leaning in. "You were always a part of this family."


End file.
